


At Your Feet

by izzyisozaki



Series: Canonverse [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: (in the beginning), Canon Compliant, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Christmas, Developing Relationship, Domestic Fluff, M/M, Praise Kink, Saint Petersburg, Victor's Foot Thing, Winter, Yurio's POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2019-02-17 17:26:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13081692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/izzyisozaki/pseuds/izzyisozaki
Summary: Yūri did not have a chance to even feel embarrassed as Viktor continued to caress him reverently, like he was the most precious thing in the world, so he nodded his head without thinking, already enraptured by Viktor’s touch.





	At Your Feet

Walking through Saint Petersburg was like a dream in winter. Fog would blanket the old imperial capital as clouds shrouded the entire sky, supplying fresh snow to the heaps that already lined the lantern-lit streets. The trees that were not pines were barren of leaves and covered in frost, their sinister silhouettes lit up by Christmas lights along the main avenues. A dog’s panting would fill the comfortable silence between two people, the darkness and cold temperatures never stopping their strolls along the embankments of the Neva every so afternoon. If one of them broke the silence, it was often followed by laughter and barking, leading to a display that a passerby, looking on, would easily recognize. Whether it warmed one’s heart or sparked envy depended on the person, but the young man who was watching them certainly felt a mix of both.

“Why did you even invite me?” Yuri Plisetsky spat once he could no longer take the sight.

“For the same reason you came?” said the other Russian, looking at him with limpid blue eyes.

At that Yuri scrunched his face, but opted to not give a comeback in response; the man would just find a way to make it seem like a compliment anyway.

The three skaters had fixed an appointment to go to the Christmas Fair, which was being held in Pionerskaya Square. That year the theme was cultural diversity, so there would be a special market with local dishes from different parts of Russia, along with activities showing how Christmas was celebrated around the world. In addition to eating and having fun, there was also the possibility to skate – if Yuri was still in the mood, that is. He was used to the couple’s displays of affection, but there was only so much of it he could take after seeing them practice their joint exhibition skate all morning. The rink at the fair was small, so there would be no way to avoid their romantic effusions; they were inseparable.

After morning training at the Sports Champions Club the two insufferable lovebirds usually went for walks with Makkachin, whom Yuri could not tell whose dog was anymore. Ever since the two older skaters had begun living together, Viktor had begun calling his pet “our girl,” as if he had co-ownership of the large, fluffy poodle with the other man, a Japanese skater whom Yuri had grudgingly accepted, but usually refused to call by his name – Yūri.

“What’s that?” Yuri’s eyes narrowed on the brunet’s neck, seeing the hint of a band-aid coming out from beneath the collar of his jacket.

The man immediately shifted his eyes and adjusted his scarf, his smile embarrassed as he fumbled to tell about having an accident while cooking dinner last night.

Yuri found something inexplicably irritating about his reaction, and issued an obligatory jab at the older skater’s apparent clumsiness.

“At this rate,” he replied wryly, “you might want to consider life insurance.”

“Don't worry Yurio, it wasn't something painful,” Viktor edged in.

“Who asked _you!?_ ” he snapped back, hearing the teasing in the man’s voice, which brought him to add “I bet it's your fault.” The ash blond laughed, smiling even wider than before, not denying he was guilty. That was Viktor Nikiforov for you, weaseling out of everything with a smile, Yuri thought. He wanted to get to the bottom of it, but since the other skater seemed to relax as Viktor brought his arm around his back, Yuri just opted to let it go. Whatever nonsense they were up to when they were alone did not matter as long as Yuri did not have to worry about it.

“Shall we go for a coffee first?” Viktor asked, slightly bending over to take a stick from Makkachin’s mouth.

“Whatever, as long as it’s take-away.”

They began to walk together, Yuri next to Makkachin and the other two arm-in-arm, and Yuri had to admit the scene, seen from the outside, would be alright with him now.

 

When Viktor and Yūri arrived home, they were elated despite their tiredness and the freezing cold, which made itself heard once they were no longer running around the Christmas fair with Yuri, who wanted to visit every stand in the small amusement park there, and skating. Cheeks and noses red, they began shedding their clothing, both looking forward to rest.

In a bag they had food from the fair to eat later, which Yūri set on the counter. Viktor’s apartment had a modern, elegant kitchen, like one straight from a magazine. Yūri loved using it, and it was perfect for two people… He would often cook with Viktor, but instead of finishing to prepare their meals sooner they often just took longer, embracing and kissing the other softly as if it was an essential part of the process.

Last night had been a bit jarring, however, when he went to heat some food in the microwave and Viktor came behind him, putting a hand on his shoulder to only pull it away. Yūri was not sure why the action stood out to him, but once he shut and set the microwave, he turned and walked up to Viktor, who was leaning against the counter, the same hand that had squeezed Yūri’s shoulder now fidgeting minutely by its edge. Viktor’s face did not betray anything unusual however, so he continued to move forward until he was chest to chest with Viktor, wrapping his arms around his waist.

“Do you want me to prepare anything else, apart from salad, to go with the chicken?”

“Oh? I’m good, thank you. I used your rice cooker for lunch today, and indulged a bit too much with the portions.”

Yūri looked a Viktor dead in the eye and then lowered his head, laughing lightly into the crook of Viktor’s neck. Mindlessly, he pressed a kiss to Viktor’s jugular, sighing as he breathed in the sweet scent of his eau de toilette. Maybe Yūri’s enjoyment was too obvious, because something in Viktor seemed to tense before he dragged a hand through Yūri’s hair, resting it behind his neck.

“If you keep teasing me…” Viktor began to say.

“Me, tease? I don't know know what you're talking about,” he said before nipping at Viktor’s neck playfully.

Viktor hummed in response, rubbing gently below Yūri’s nape. Eventually Yūri paused, realizing Viktor was not really doing anything to get back at him for making a star map of his neck.

“I thought you weren't going to go easy on me,” he could not help saying, knowing just how gentle Viktor was with him outside of “coach-mode.”

“Yūri.”

Viktor’s voice had dropped by an octave, and before Yūri could lean back to look up at him, the latter hooked an arm around his waist, turning over so Yūri now had _his_ back toward the counter.

“Care to try me then? Or will you…back down?”

Yūri could tell Viktor was refraining from laughter at the last part, his face betraying an amused smile, as if physically incapable of delivering such line with a straight face.

“Back down from a challenge issued by Viktor Nikiforov? I don't think so.”

“I’ll have you surrender by the time dinner’s ready.”

But Yūri did not surrender – despite all the cries Viktor ripped from him while ravishing his throat – and ample evidence was there on his skin the day after. He was still a bit incredulous that Viktor had bent him over the same counter he was resting a bag on now, but after the Grand Prix Final their relationship had definitely shifted, albeit not in an obvious way due to how intimate they already were, sleeping and often kissing in the same bed.

Now they were undoubtedly an item, and though it rarely went past kissing and caressing each other fondly, their “sessions” got progressively longer, supple hands wandering until they were lost in the expanse of each other’s skin. The farthest they ended up going, however, was by pleasuring themselves while lying together in bed, neither really touching or looking each other in the face, which was the easiest way for Yūri to climax without having to worry about his sexual prowess, as much as he wanted to give in to his desire of Viktor. He could barely let out his voice when he stroked himself at first, but the sound Viktor’s whispering in his ear and his warm breath on Yūri’s shoulder drove him over the edge, as if he was living his very own fantasy where Viktor was all around him, touching and opening him and making him full. He could almost taste the ecstasy on his lips when they came together, panting in the darkness of Viktor’s bedroom, their rapid heartbeats mingling together in his mind once he felt Viktor’s chest against his back, lips pressing against his nape.

The memory would make his chest flutter and his cheeks burn, but with the cold he was feeling now he needed to take further action.

“I’m going to soak my feet in some warm water a bit.”

Viktor made a sound in agreement, not surprised in the least as he was drying off their own dog’s feet with a towel. The house was also a bit cold since the heating was only turned up in the afternoon, being that they usually stayed out in the morning; Makkachin had of a self-activating, heated dog bed and stayed in their warmer bedroom. Cool temperatures were a nice excuse to cuddle up at night, as well as a good way to save energy, but were less bearable when trying to sit and relax in the living room. As much as Yūri covered his feet, they often felt cold and clammy unless he washed and slipped them into a fresh pair of socks once he got home. His feet also ached from all his training, so it relieved some of the soreness.

After taking off his socks and getting a clean pair from the dresser, he went to the main bathroom, where Viktor always went when he wanted to take a bath instead of a shower. Yūri threw a towel over his shoulder and grabbed some coarse salt to put in a basin, which he pulled out from under the sink. After filling it with hot water he slowly carried it out to the living room, setting it near the stool across from the couch, where Viktor was now lounging as he eyed the back of a book.

Setting his socks on the floor, Yūri then rolled up his pants and tested the temperature of the water with his toes.

“Do your feet hurt?” Viktor asked as he watched Yūri wince as he dipped them into the salted water.

“Not more than usual,” he replied with a release of breath. “It’s just shock of the warm water when my feet are cold.”

He let his feet soak a bit before rubbing them thoroughly, eventually pulling one out to dry with the towel. Once he took out the other, Viktor got up from the coach, setting the unopened book he had in his lap on the console table.

“Come sit on the couch; I’ll do it for you.”

Yūri’s hand froze with the towel, eyes lifting up to Viktor’s face.

“Ah, don't worry, it’s f–”

“Yūri. Stand up.”

Unwilling to argue, Yūri grabbed his socks from the floor and tiptoed to the couch. Once he was settled, Viktor took the towel from him and got down on his knees. When Viktor’s hand wrapped around his ankle his toes involuntarily curled, but he continued to quietly observe. It was not like Viktor had never kneeled and held his feet before, but it was the first time in the privacy of Viktor’s apartment, where anything could happen.

Viktor rubbed his left foot with the towel until it was mostly dry, and then tapped the right one, no longer moist, so Yūri could slip it into a sock. Returning to dry the other once that was done, he eventually put the towel down and cradled Yūri’s battered foot in his warm hands.

“Can I play with your foot?” he asked as he caressed the top with his thumbs, “I’ll stop if you don't like it.”

“Uh…d-do you mean…like in a sexy way?” Yūri barely breathed out.

“I see you're already a step ahead of me, Yūri,” he replied sensually, dragging his left hand slowly up Yūri’s calf.

“I…well…”

Yūri did not have a chance to even feel embarrassed as Viktor continued to caress him reverently, like he was the most precious thing in the world, so he nodded his head without thinking, already enraptured by Viktor’s touch.

“Yes?” Viktor asked to confirm.

He was certainly not going to say no if that was what Viktor also wanted.

“Yes…”

They held each other’s gaze as Victor lifted Yūri’s foot higher, and Yūri tried to mirror the seriousness of Viktor’s expression, until he lost his composure, Viktor grazing the side of Yūri’s toe with his lips experimentally.

By the time Viktor closed his eyes and angled Yūri’s foot to kiss underneath the arch of his toe, the temperature felt like it had risen by ten degrees, Yūri unable to do anything but stare in disbelief as Viktor kissed down the row. Once Viktor was done his lips went to the center of Yūri’s midfoot, kissing languidly all the way down and up again, making Yūri melt into the couch.

Viktor’s lips then dragged to the inner part of Yūri’s foot, mouth finally opening to give a teasing suck on the side of the arch. Viktor looked up and met Yūri’s eyes again, and before Yūri could let out more than a shaky exhalation, he spoke.

“I adore you.”

Yūri felt the heat in his gut coil into something sharp and heavy, his mouth parting as the grip of his hands tightened, uncaring of the sting of nails digging into his skin.

“Continue to show me.”

The words were laced with lust, and he truly ached to have Victor’s mouth somewhere else, but he stayed in that position and waited for the other to go on, eyes drinking in the rosy color of Viktor’s cheeks.

Without hesitation Viktor lowered Yūri’s foot so his toes were now just below his bowed mouth, breath heavily fanning over them. Both of Yūri’s feet then curled inadvertently, untensing as Viktor began to softly coax the toes of his left one with his fingers, thumb soon caressing the bottom of his big toe.

Yūri knew what was coming, and did not take his eyes off Viktor, who finally leaned in to take his first toe between his gorgeous, perfectly hydrated lips.

The wetness of Viktor’s mouth soon registered as the surface of his tongue dragged against the pad of Yūri’s toe, causing Yūri to bite back a moan, the area between his legs now hot in want.

Viktor soon began to suck more earnestly, the sounds reaching Yūri’s ears like the lewdest thing he had ever heard, clouding his mind as he thought of more. Meanwhile the crimson color on Viktor’s cheeks only seemed to spread, and Yūri’s head fell back onto the headrest behind him, feeling each suck of Viktor’s mouth around his toe like a new sensation taking over him. Eventually Viktor released his toe to kiss and lick along the bruises of his foot, too lost in his administrations to even look up at Yūri, until he noticed the latter began to squirm, despite his attempts to hold still. He smirked knowing he had brought this on, and that he would not stop until Yūri’s eyes were shut and his mouth hanging open, hopefully touching himself and saying Viktor's name, over and over like it was the only word he knew.

Viktor so wanted that.

“Uh…”

Yūri began to make louder, although repressed sounds, so Viktor slid his cheek down the side of his foot, moving Yūri’s leg out more to kiss right above the bone of his inner ankle.

Finally Yūri let out a cry, no longer able to hide the tent in his pants, erection straining against the fabric for Viktor to see.

“Is that enough?” Viktor met his gaze, the pupils of his blue eyes fully dilating as he questioned Yūri.

“Ah, nn-please…continue.”

Yūri began to pant more heavily, Viktor no longer taking it slow as he continued to worship Yūri’s foot, making his mind spin. He did his best to keep watching as Victor doted on every mark and bruise like he meant it with all his heart, his hand delicately wrapping around Yūri's ankle to kiss down the top of his foot, slowing down to the pace of before.

“It’s so g-good…Viktor.”

He tried to steady his voice, but Viktor looked, sounded, and felt liked heaven. His entire body pulsed in arousal, and he could no longer help himself from palming the bulge in his pants. Fumbling with the zip, all reason went out the window when he saw Victor’s hungry eyes, as if he could not wait to see Yūri do it. Thrusting his hand into his boxers, he took his erection, unable to not say Viktor’s name as he closed his eyes and relished in the sensation of having Viktor’s entire attention on him, overwhelmed with feelings he still could not put into words.

“Your body, and the way you move…is divine, Yūri,” Victor said finally, bringing the sole of Yūri’s foot to his chest and dragging it down his torso until it rested on his own erection, warm and large, and Yūri, at the edge of his sanity, grinded down, locking the cry Viktor made into his heart before finally letting go. He gave a strangled moan as his back arched from the couch, Viktor covering and squeezing Yūri’s left hand as his fingers dug into the edge of the cushioning, desperate to hold something, to hold onto to Viktor.

It took a few minutes for him to wind down from the high, feeling completely sated albeit a bit tingly in his left foot, which Viktor had slipped into a sock, wearing an irresistible smile on his flushed face and looking up at Yūri as if he had put the sun in the sky.

“Is there anything else I can do for you?” he then asked.

“Get us to the shower, I guess.” Yūri laughed, incredulous, a hand half-covering his face as he tried to hold back a sudden blush.

“Mm, sounds good.”

(Laughing and hugging ensues in the shower when Victor playfully leans in to kiss Yūri and the latter dodges, saying he does not want to taste his foot on Victor's mouth.)


End file.
